Colors
by virtuallyvogue
Summary: To her, their relationship was like a kaleidoscope. You couldn't simply look at one color in order for the picture to be pleasing; you would have to see them all together. / One-shot. ZxC /


Colors

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Gallagher Girls series by Ally Carter. All rights go to their respectful owners. No copyright infringement is intended.**

* * *

To her, their relationship was like a kaleidoscope. You couldn't simply look at one color in order for the picture to be pleasing; you would have to see them all together. When he was blue, he would walk past her in the hallway, and he would simply say, "Hey." When she walked into the classroom, he would never pull out a chair and greet her kindly. He would simply give her a head nod, acknowledging her existence.

When he was pink or purple, he would do something sweet. On her eighteenth birthday, he left a bouquet inside of her dorm room with a package of peanut M&Ms, and a note that said, "-Z." Sometimes, she would find him wondering the hallways in the middle of the night. When she asked him why, he simply looked into her eyes and murmured, "I have my reasons."

When he was green, he'd be smiling instead of smirking. He'd sit next to her in the cafeteria. He'd laugh at the jokes she'd make, or her friends would say. He'd place his warm hand on her exposed knee and pick food off of her plate.

For more than a month, he'd been a mixture of reds and greys. She couldn't talk to him the way she used to. He wouldn't laugh at her jokes, or greet her in the hallways. Neither would he give her the head nod she had grown to adore when she entered a classroom, or go out of his way to be sweet. It hurt to be near him, but it hurt even more to be away.

When the Circle of Cavan entered her life, they flipped every thing upside down. She felt like she was standing on her hands and she could feel her toes wiggling in the air. After that one summer, when she left the Academy, she returned more lost than ever. It was like she was spinning in an ocean, and she didn't know which way was up. He was the one who helped her find the shore. The more the Circle of Cavan terrorized them, the closer the two of them seemed to become.

She was always convinced that _their fates_ were meant to overlap each other, but after the Circle of Cavan was destroyed, she wasn't sure if _they_ were meant for each other.

* * *

The library was growing quieter and quieter by the minute. The only sound she could hear at this point was the sound of people's footsteps as they headed off to their dorm rooms. The night sky was swirling with dark purples and intimidating blacks. The only light that seemed to be striking against the distorted trees belonged to the stars and the silvery moon. Cameron Morgan was seated near the front of the library, scribbling down notes on a sheet of paper as she skimmed the textbook placed in front of her.

She heard a heavier pair of feet heading towards the door from behind. The clumps were very distinct; there was only one person in the school that stumbled down the hallway in that way. She glanced up, meeting warm, brown eyes.

"Hey Zach," she whispered. He casually slipped into the seat in front of her, leaning his backpack against the chair. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you. I'm studying for my exams." He stretched back, resting his feet on the chair on her left. She rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then, what _did_ you mean, Gallagher Girl?" He raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing _here_?" She gestured towards where he was sitting. The two of them hadn't talked in what felt like decades. This was the longest conversation they had in weeks.

"Studying for my exams," he repeated. She stood up, and started to gather her things. Zach stood up as well, preparing to follow her.

"Well, Zach, studying for your exams requires actually studying, not talking to your ex-girl- I mean, me." She started to walk away. A smirk was written onto his face, but then he stiffened.

"Wait, Cammie-" His playful tone vanished, as he took a step towards her.

"I have things to do, Zach," she said, walking at a brisk pace. He didn't follow behind her.

* * *

The cafeteria was filled with the giggles of multiple teenage girls and the sound of forks hitting plates. One young man was sitting with his broad shoulders slumped at a table, across from a beautiful woman with caramel colored skin. He picked at his food, as he mumbled things across to the girl, who was listening closely to what he had to say.

The young woman's British accent rang out as she said, "Zach, I think you should try talking to her." The words pouring out of her mouth were supposed to be in Portuguese, but the two of them were whispering words to each other in English.

"To who? Cammie?" He shook his head. He continued to pick up at his food before saying, "She's different."

"Well, of course she's bloody different, Zach. You are, too! You need to talk to her! And don't give me any of that 'Bex, she hates me!' crap. I know her more than you do, Goode, and I know that she's far from hating you." She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "Zach, remember when Cammie left that summer? Do you remember what it was like when she came back? Do you remember how I felt?" He nodded his head. "Zach, look at me." His brown eyes met hers. "When Cammie came back, you were the first person to really accept her for who she was. You told me not to give up on her; you told everyone." She touched his arm. "I know you know what it's like to lose somebody that you love. It hurts…a lot." She bit her lip. "Zach, that's what you're putting her through right now. She's my best friend, and I can't stand seeing her this way." Her eyes were slightly watering, as more words poured out of her mouth. "You know, I used to think that there was nobody in the world that could help Cammie after she came back. I thought all of us could try, but none of us would be able to protect Cammie from the things she saw that summer. None of us would be able to stop the nightmares or the memories." She bit her lip. "But _you_ did. She needs you, and I think you need her just as much."

And that was the first time Zachary Goode ever saw Rebecca Baxter cry.

* * *

She was sitting on her favorite beanbag inside of her favorite secret passage, listening to absolute silence. Her thoughts were swirling around her mind. Everything felt complicated. The spy part of her was screaming at her to be logical and stay in control. The eighteen year-old girl wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.

That's when she felt warm fingertips graze her right arm from behind and soft lips touch the top of her forehead. Memories rose up from the deepest, most sensitive part of her. She recalled a ruby red slipper exhibit in Washington D.C., moments spent hiding in the back of the library, the way he would whisper Gallagher Girl, train compartments, an ice skating rink in England, being flipped over a young man's shoulder in Rome, and how dark the mansion was when she would sneak over to the East Wing in the evenings. It was all _Zach_.

It was all _home_.

She eased into him as he took her hand and helped her up. Suddenly, she found herself being guided through the dimly lit hallways. The only sound being produced through the corridors was the faint sound of Zach's breathing and the sound of her heart beating. She kept on walking with him until she found herself in downtown Roseville, standing right in the middle of the gazebo. Just two years ago, she was sitting on the gazebo steps with the very same young man when he said, "_Just trust me, Gallagher Girl. Can you trust me?" _

She glanced at their interlaced fingers, as he continued to look at her. After all of these years, she was used to being unnoticed in a crowd. He always seemed to see her. In fact, he was even searching for her when they first met.

"I realized," he said, bringing her in close, "that I haven't been the best towards you lately. You deserve better." It was all the things that she wanted to hear, and he knew that. She was raised as a spy. She knew that when things when right, things _weren't_ always right.

"You hurt me, Zach," she said.

He hung his head. "I know."

She took another step towards him. His arms instinctively went around her and tightened. Usually, she'd feel needy, almost desperate. But Zach taught her a valuable lesson, something neither her teachers nor her mom could ever teach her.

He taught her that it was okay to feel. He taught her not to be afraid to depend so heavily on someone in a business where you couldn't trust anyone. So, she moved closer towards him, and made their lips collide. She drank him in; all of his reds, blues, greens, and greys. When he released her, she looked him in the eye and whispered, "Thank you."

He didn't have to ask what she meant. He knew. Of course he would know. "Thank you," he whispered back. His breath caused a small cloud to form in front of him and brush the skin on her face.

They stood there, holding each other in the gazebo. The only sound was the crickets chirping. The night sky sparkled. She felt Zach's warmth radiate, protecting her from the chilliness.

"I can trust you," she blurted out.

"What?" he said, surprised by the sudden disruption.

"Two years ago, you asked me if I can trust you, and I can. I _do_. More than anyone else. I trust _you_."

He was a killer. He was born into a terrorist organization. His mom was a psychopath. His dad was a trained liar. His only parental figure was a young man who used to be apart of the very same organization his mother thrived in; an organization that also killed her father.

But none of those details changed the way she felt about him.

He stared at her in disbelief as her words took toll. He lips curled up in amusement and his eyes lit up. "You are a miracle."

Later in the evening, they walked back, their hands still intertwined. He guided her back to the East Wing. As she slipped into the sheets beside Zach, their breaths began to synchronize. She felt more at peace than she had in ages.

"I love you," he mumbled. He grasped the side of her hip and pulled her close to him.

At that moment, he wasn't pink, purple, blue, green, or grey.

He was simply _Zach_.

* * *

_A/N: It's been a while since I've posted anything! I'm sorry. I've been trying to get back into it lately, and hopefully I will be able to! Thank you for the patience._

_-Vogue_


End file.
